


Mistaken For Dad

by AeveeItazura



Category: The Venture Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6949690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeveeItazura/pseuds/AeveeItazura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>White finds a surprise on his door step.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistaken For Dad

He is woken by a high pitched crying. At first, he thought Billy left the television before leaving for school. Then he remembered the speakers blew out of the damn thing months ago. Neither of them had to time or patience to replace it. Blinking blood shot eyes, he picks himself up out of bed and flinches at his reflection. His eyes are even redder then usual and his hair looks like a sun bleached bird’s nest. The crying is getting more plaintive and White has never been able to ignore crying. He shuffles his way to the front door, closing his eyes in pain. The closer he gets, the more his head pounds.

Opening the front door, he looks down on the doorstep and sees a basket with a pink blanket. Looking around, he shakes his head in disbelief. He is far too hungover for this. Maybe the basket is a bomb and will end his misery. He pushes the blanket aside, revealing the source of the crying. Big blue watery eyes stare up at him, the cries turning into whimpers now that their vision isn’t obscured. A hat is on their head, a soft lavender colour. He sees a note left on the baby and picks it up.

Skimming it, he groans. He thought the abandoned baby on a doorstep with a note thing only happened in fairy tales. He realizes the note is addressed to his good friend Thaddeus “Rusty” Venture and groans again. It seems this child is the result of illegal genetic experiments. She was supposed to be destroyed along with the other experiments, but the letter writer took pity on her. As the son of the world renowned Jonas Venture, the writer thought Rust would be willing to help this “poor lost soul”. Clearly this person didn’t know Rusty like he does. Or his address.

Looking back at the child, he sees the hat has been shaken off, revealing two bright pink cat ears. Least that is what the letter said the basket’s occupant is. He has no idea what to do. Maybe if he is out of the creeping sun he will be able to think better. He picks up the basket and takes it into the trailer. Can’t live her out exposed to the wasps and tarantulas like some kind of monster. He puts the basket on the couch and sits next to it. Reclining back, he covers his face with his hands.

White knows he can’t take care of a baby, let alone a specially made in a lab one. He can’t even take care of himself half the time without Billy. There has to be like a super science orphanage or something for these sort of situations. That’s way better idea than two wannabe super scientists in a trailer trying to raise a special child like her. White sighs in frustration. If it’s such a good idea, why does it leave his stomach feeling sour? Like it would be a huge mistake. Looking at the tiny thing crinkling her pink nose in preparation of another cry, he makes a decision. The invisible hand of fate has lead him to Billy and it has now lead him to this cat girl.

He remembers Rust mentioning babies needing constant affection and picks her up. She immediately quiets, burying her face into his chest. He rubs her pink jumper covered back and can’t help but grin when he hears tiny purrs. He jumps for a moment when he feels something soft touch his hand but he realizes it’s her tail. He laughs to himself for a moment. While holding the small child, it dawns on him that he should ask Rusty for advice. But he can’t just leave her alone. But how can he make sure she is safe riding in the moped because no way is he walking who knows how many miles? He puts her back in the basket and she starts to protest.

"Hey, don’t cry,“ he pleads. "I’ll be right back, okay?”

He mentally scolds himself. It’s not like she will understand him. She did quiet though so it must work. He grabs the pillows off the “couch” and the blankets from the bed he shares with Billy for completely space related reasons and stuffs the floor of the sidecar attached to the moped with them. It isn’t the same as an actual car seat, but he’ll be sure to drive extra safe. He heads back in and finds her sucking her thumb, asleep like she wasn’t just whimpering. Picking up the basket, he is extra careful not to wake her up. She didn’t stir once on the trip. Not even when he yelped at the new, louder alarm that Rusty installed. He parks the moped in front of the statue. He shudders before gently picking the kitten up from her basket. She protests but snuggles close. He sees Rust waiting at the front door for him, a bemused grin on his face. White rolls his eyes, used to Rust’s teasings over him coming over with strays.

White walks in, explaining how the kitten came into his possession. Rust leads him into the living room and points out a playpen with two toddlers peering over the edge curiously. White shakes his head as he puts the small kitten into the pen with them. Could have swore they were much older than toddlers. Maybe Billy had a point about marijuana causing memory loss. She looks up at him, confusion in her too deep blue eyes. He motions towards the toddlers and she sticks out her lip. She looks like she is about to cry when one of the twins toddles over to her and pats her pink hair. She whips around, looking for the source of the sudden invasion of privacy. She mewls at the freckled boy and waves her hands until he joins her. White breathes a sigh of relieve and sits on the sofa across from Rust. Rust smirks at him, swirling a drink in his hand.

"Already got you all wrapped around it’s finger, doesn’t it?“ Rust quips.

"She,” White corrects. “And no way.”

"Sure,“ Rust drawls. "So, why did you come down with her?”

"Come on Rust,“ White says. "I don’t know a thing about about taking care of kids, let alone one like her.”

"White, she’s a hybrid,“ Rust says. "She probably won’t last all that long anyway. What’s the big deal?”

White gapes at Rust, horrified at how casually he said that. Rust sighs. White was always a sucker for a fellow freak. Rust gets up, muttering about soft hearted chumps and wastes of time. While Rust is busy doing whatever he is doing in the other room, White watches the children play. Well, the blonde one is playing with a sparkly star toy. The freckled one is flat on his back, making noises in his sleep. He chuckles when he sees his cat girl stick her thumb in his mouth, quieting the noisy toddler. She is going to be so smart, he knows it. He feels a well of emotion watching the two napping together.

Rust comes back, hands in his pockets. Rust looks over and rolls his eyes at the snoozing children. White can’t make out what he said, but he knows it must have been some kind of crack about her being a cat. HELPeR in tow with a large diaper bag overflowing with supplies in his claws. HELPeR beeps, dropping the bag in front of White before wheeling away. He wakes up his new ward, getting her back in his arms where she belongs. He about to thank him when Rust stops him.

“If you want to waste your time on more lost causes, go ahead,” Rust says. “I don’t care what you do, long as I don’t have to deal with it.”

Rust turns away, ending the conversation. White grabs the diaper bag from the ground, balancing the kitten against his hip as he bends down. Rust is at the side of the pen, brow furrowed in concern. In the time it took White to pick up the kitten and the bag, the blonde was already pestering his sleeping brother with the sparkly star from across the pen. Rust “rescues” the freckled boy, scolding the blonde boy for pestering his brother. Hank he thinks he heard Rust call him before turning to face him. The toddler in his arms is almost awake now, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Wave bye bye to the kitty Dean,“ Rusty says, voice dripping with snark.

Dean opens and closes his hand and the kitten repeats the motion before snuggling into White’s chest. Rust gives him some parting advice before heading off to put his boy down for a nap. He gets her situated in her basket, tucking the blanket around her. He promises he will get her a real car seat in a few days. He pokes her nose and she giggles. Maybe Rust was right about her having him wrapped around her little fuzzy cream fingers. He puts the bag next to the basket, not wanting her to get hurt by the heavy bag falling off the seat. He sighs to himself and drives the moped off the compound.

By the time they return back to the trailer, Billy was home. He can see the lights are on and can hear the mariachi music. He slings the bag over a shoulder and picks up the kitten with his free arm. Holding her close, he gets the door open. Billy turns at the sound, grin on his face. He freezes mid shake of the cocktail shaker. He gestures towards the kitten in his arm with the mixer, brow furrowed.

"What the hell is that thing?” Billy asks.

"That thing,“ White says as he puts the diaper bag onto the ground. "Is our daughter.”

"What?“ Billy asks. "That cat is…OUR daughter?”

"Well yeah, White says. “She was left on our doorstep. It’s like finder’s rights or something.”

"That isn’t how that works!“ Billy cries. "And that is a cat in a jumper, not a baby!”

On cue, she starts to cry in a very uncat like way. Billy’s green eye goes wide and is rendered speechless. White bounces her up and down, trying to soothe her as he rubs her back. She quiets, her cries turning into whimpers before trailing into soft purrs. Billy puts the shaker down, sitting at the kitchen table. He lays his forehead against his clasped hands, taking deep even breaths. White has noticed he does that whenever he is frustrated. He takes the opportunity to take care of the kitten’s needs. He gets a bottle of formula prepared for her and sets out a new jumper for her. She guzzles the formula down in record time, he swears. He gets her cleaned and tidied before setting her on the couch, using the cushion to build a fort around her so she can’t roll off.

He dashes off to grab the basket so she has a place to sleep. She has only moved to grab her tail. He picks her up and puts her in the basket. He tucks her in, kissing her forehead before she wiggles down and closes her eyes. He tucks the basket in a corner that she won’t be tripped over. He runs his index through her silky pink hair before turning his attention back to Billy. He slides into the booth across from him, putting his elbows on the table. He knows Billy has been thinking very hard about the new situation. Billy’s hands fold down.

"If we are keeping her,“ Billy starts. "A big if, mind you. She has to have a name we both agree on. That isn’t some reference to a cat you saw in a cartoon or movie.”

White shrugs. wasn’t like he wanted to name her Cheetara or Duchess anyway. In fact, he was thinking about her name on the way back home and believes he has stumbled upon the perfect name for her.

“Also, she is getting a good education,” Billy continues. “None of this back of the cereal box crap. Speaking of cereal, no junk food. If we’re doing this, we’re doing this right. Agreed?”

White beams, nodding in agreement. Billy slides out of the booth and picks up the cocktail shaker back up. He goes over and gets a better look at her. White follows and sees she has her thumb in her mouth, a content smile on her face as she sleeps. Billy looks up, a bashful grin on his face.

"She is cute,“ Billy admits.

"Yeah,” White agrees.

"So, what are we calling her? Any ideas?“ Billy asks.

"I was thinking Roxxy,” White says. “Like Roxxy Music, ya know?”

Billy nods, not disagreeing with the name. He seems almost in agreement for once. White is about to puff his chest in pride when he notices the look on Billy’s face. He has that thoughtful look on his face again. Like something is bothering him still.

"What is her last name going to be?“ Billy asks.

"Was thinking hyphenating both of ours,” White answers slowly. “Sure, Roxanne Cybele Whalen-White is a bit of a mouthful but-”

"Cybele?“ Billy interrupts.

"Ya know, "White says. "Like the nature goddess.”

"I’ll come up with something better,“ Billy states. "When we go and get the paperwork filled out. No way am I putting that down for her middle name.”

White nods, unsure of what Billy is talking about. He’s glad he didn’t have to fight too hard to keep the kitten that was left on their doorstep. The pair fuss over the baby Roxanne throughout the night.

**Author's Note:**

> I figured having the origin of Roxx in an easy to find spot like here would be a clever move so here we are.


End file.
